


Steve and Bucky and the Brooklyn Pride Parade

by liionne



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Also rated mature for some, Bisexual Steve Rogers, Fluff and Crack, Gay Bucky Barnes, It's all just really gay, Just hints of it, M/M, Nonegenarians explore pride, Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Pride, Spoiler free though!, and Pride Parades, and homophobic slang, happy 20gayteen y'all, mature language, no actual smut i'm afraid, so please do take heed, some minor homophobic slurs, which could be construed as offensive
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-16
Updated: 2018-06-16
Packaged: 2019-05-23 22:03:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14942183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liionne/pseuds/liionne
Summary: I was in it. Twice. I've been kinda busy the past few years, though," Steve says. Bucky gives a hum as Steve's nails scratch at his scalp, obviously not listening, until he cracks open one storm grey eye, and meets Steve's gaze."You were in the parade?""Uh huh.""No way."Or: a couple of noneganarians explore Pride.





	Steve and Bucky and the Brooklyn Pride Parade

**Author's Note:**

> Well, I want to write really well thought out, very well plotted AUs, but my brain decided to give me this, and so now I'm giving it all to you.
> 
> And for the record, despite being almost cripplingly bisexual, I've never been to a pride parade (I'm always either otherwise busy or have no one to go with), so I did a lot of winging it on this. 
> 
> Hope you all enjoy!

"Did y'know they've got a parade for the queers now, Stevie?"

Steve looks up from the book he's reading (Stephen King's _It_ , on Natasha's recommendation), and arches an eyebrow. Bucky's grinning wickedly as he comes into the apartment, leaving his shoes by the door, and Steve _knows_ he's saying it to try and get a rise out of him.

He knows this because he and Bucky had a very lengthy conversation about the LGBT community, their rights, and their history, shortly after Bucky's brain had almost short-circuited upon seeing two guys kissing on the subway. Sam had narrowed his eyes at Bucky, assuming that his gawping was due to some kind of deeply ingrained 1930s homophobia; he was reminded not to make assumptions when Bucky turned to Steve, looked him dead in the eyes, and said, "We could'a been doin' that this whole time?"

Steve knows better than to raise an argument; it'll only make Bucky worse.

"I've been defrosted going on... seven years now, Buck. I know about the parade."

"Oh do you now?"

Bucky flops onto the sofa and promptly settles his head in Steve's lap, waiting for Steve to fold over the corner of his page and set the book to one side before he closes his eyes. Steve, of course, wastes no time in burying his fingers in Bucky's hair. It's still long, though not as long as it was in Wakanda; Steve kind of liked it when it was longer, but Bucky's still learning about the whole _autonomy_ thing, so Steve doesn't comment on how he thinks Bucky should or shouldn't wear his hair.

"Mm hm. I was in it. Twice. I've been kinda busy the past few years, though," Steve says. Bucky gives a hum as Steve's nails scratch at his scalp, obviously not listening, until he cracks open one storm grey eye, and meets Steve's gaze.

"You were _in_ the parade?"

"Uh huh."

"Like on a float?"

"Uh huh."

"No way."

"Yes way. It's right there on the internet, Buck. Did you not google me? I'm almost offended."

"Were you up there on your own?"

"No. There were a few people up there. It was fun."

"Oh my god, pass me my phone. Pass me my phone _right now_."

And so Bucky spends the next fifteen minutes googling the words "Steve Rogers Pride Parade", and, well. The main results are a lot of articles about whether Captain America should or shouldn't be front and centre at a pride parade, but the images. The images are a lot more fun.

"Oh, Stevie, that's cute." Bucky muses, almost as if he's talking to himself, staring at one picture in particular: Steve, wrapped in a pink, purple and blue flag, sitting cross-legged on the dirty Brooklyn sidewalk, letting a teenager with her hair in glitter-coated space buns paint rainbow stripes on his cheeks, the teenager taking her job very seriously, and Steve grinning like a loon.

"Jesus, she has bragging rights for years." Bucky says, and Steve chuckles softly. He remembers Leila. She DMs him on twitter every year asking him if he's going to be in the parade - even the last few years, when he was an internationally wanted criminal, who definitely wasn't checking twitter, and who definitely wasn't going to communicate with a teenager in Brooklyn. Much.

Bucky saves the photo. Steve pretends not to notice.

"You wanna go?" Steve asks him, looking down at Bucky.

Bucky hums softly. Steve doesn't know if he's actually considering it or if he's just distracted, looking at a picture of Steve, now with bisexual flag and rainbow cheeks, standing on the back of a rainbow float and waving to the assembled crowds.

"Sure." He says. Nods. "Why not."

Steve nods his agreement, and leaves it at that.

~*~

"How many hoops have you got to jump through for that, then?" Natasha asks, sitting opposite Steve at what has become _their_ table ever since he and Bucky were allowed to return to New York six months prior.

"None." Steve answers. When Natasha arches an eyebrow, he clears his throat. "I'm not asking permission."

"Steve." She says gravely. Steve sighs.

His and Bucky's presence back in the States is subject to a variety of rules and regulations, despite official pardon from the president after the part each of them played in taking down Thanos. Usually it means that if Steve so much as wants to look in a certain direction he has to submit an official application, but this is Pride. Steve isn't going to ask permission to show the world exactly who he is, or what he believes in. Especially not when it does a lot of people a lot of good. And  _especially_ not when he couldn't, for the first two decades (ish) of his life.

"It's not a big deal. We won't be _in_ the parade." Steve insists, sipping at his coffee. "We're just gonna go. Probably won't even dress up. It's Bucky's first time, don't forget."

"Watch your language, Rogers, we're in public." She grimaces, and Steve manages to only blush a little bit. "But if you think it's going to be fine, well. I'll leave you to it."

"You mean when we get in trouble, you want no part of it."

"Tom-ay-to, tom-ah-to," She says, waving a dainty (read: deadly) hand. "A word of advice, though?"

Steve doesn't know why he bothers to respond, because she's going to give it to him anyway. "Just one?"

Natasha rolls her eyes. "Don't let Barnes go armed. The key to keeping out of trouble is being as harmless as two genetically enhanced supersoldiers possibly can be. So no knives, and definitely no guns."

"Bucky wouldn't--"

"Barnes is a trained assassin, Steve, he doesn't think about it when he slips a switchblade into his boot every morning. It's muscle memory." Natasha finishes her coffee, and sets the empty mug down on the table. "And even if he _is_  thinking about it, and he wants to be armed to protect people in the event of an attack, it's too easy for people to get the wrong idea." She looks Steve dead in the eyes, and Steve, for his part, really does listen. "You know I'll do my best to bail you out if something does happen, but I'd much rather it didn't." She stands, pulls on her jacket, and then bends to kiss his cheek. "Have a nice time." She tells him. "I'll try to be there."

Steve doesn't know if he she means it, but he does hold on to her advice, mulling it over as he finishes his own coffee, takes the mugs back inside, and heads back home.

~*~

"I've got a present for you." He says as he walks into the apartment a few days later. Bucky sits at the island in the kitchen, eyebrows arched. "Close your eyes." Steve grins, setting his grocery bag down on the counter until Bucky closes his eyes.

He doesn't know what happened to the bi flag he had all those years ago; probably lost in the shuffle of Bucky and HYDRA and being a fugitive. Steve is surprised to find that he's a little sad, missing it ever so slightly, but then again he _is_ a sentimental bastard.

Anyway; he knows he could have just gone on amazon and ordered them a couple of flags, but then he had walked by the bodega after his trip to Trader Joe's (Bucky says he'll die without his cinnamon apple sticks, and Steve indulges him) and they'd been selling them fairly cheap, so he'd returned home with cinnamon apple sticks (amongst other things), a new flag for himself, and a rainbow flag for Bucky, which he now ties around his neck, making sure it sits right on his shoulders before he pulls away.

"Okay, now go look in the mirror."

"Stevie, I'm eating here, do you know how long it took me to make this chicken alfredo?"

"Oh my _god_ , it'll take ten seconds, just go."

" _Fine_ , jesus, you're so pushy--"

Bucky goes to the mirror they keep just by the front door, and blinks. He tugs the flag around him a little more, and then he grins, blinding. Steve still scuffs the floor with one sock-clad toe, though.

"I just got the rainbow flag, because, y'know, I wasn't _exactly_ sure how you identify, but they have a pansexual flag, or--"

"Steve. Stop runnin' your mouth, you're ruinin' the moment." Bucky says, turning around, his back to the mirror, so that he can clasp Steve's face in both hands and kiss him. Steve decides to go with it, because kissing Bucky usually makes him want to surrender, his hands finding Bucky's hips and holding on tight.

"It's perfect." Bucky tells him, grinning at him. "And for the record, Stevie, I'm gay. Total FOD. Couldn't lie straight in bed. Not even remotely interested in pussy, despite what--"

"Now who's ruinin' the moment?" Steve accuses, leaning in to kiss Bucky again, though it's sort of awkward - Bucky won't stop grinning.

"From the guy who _does_ like pussy--"

"Say pussy one more time, Buck, I swear to god."

"Pussy!"

Steve about chokes him with the flag around his neck; Bucky is too busy laughing to even notice.

~*~

"Hey, Stevie," Bucky whispers one night, the two of them lying in bed, still sweating and sticky and panting, just a little.

"Mm?" Steve hums, reaching out for him, hand sliding across Bucky's stomach.

"Am I an otter, or a bear?"

"Aw, Buck," Steve says, smiling at him in the darkness of their bedroom. "I don't think they got a word for what you are."

"Sap." Bucky criticises, but he smiles all the same.

Steve rolls over, moving so that he can press Bucky back into the bed and kiss him. Bucky's answering sigh, equal parts content and wanton, makes Steve's blood heat. "Just the truth." He argues, trailing kisses down Bucky's jaw, his neck, his chest. "I love you."

"Yeah, yeah, you sap," Bucky sighs. "I love you too."

Steve can't help himself, though. Has to keep running his mouth. "But I mean, I don't think you're a bear  _or_ an otter. A raccoon, maybe. Or a possum--"

"Oh, you ruined the mood."

"Maybe an ungodly mix of the two. A possoon. A raccum."

"Less talking more kissing, Rogers."

"You're kinda chunky like a raccoon is - what're the kids calling it?  _Thick_."

"Oh my  _god_."

Steve grins against Bucky's skin as Bucky covers his face with his hands, and continues trailing his kisses lower, and lower, and lower.

~*~

They take the R train from Court Street to Union Street, and walk over to the corner where 5th street meets 5th avenue, halfway along the route. They manage to get themselves a spot right at the front, too; Bucky wearing his rainbow flag, Steve with his pink-purple-blue flag, each with painted cheeks and bright eyes. Steve had spent the entire morning painting Bucky's metal arm, too, so now it's as bright and colourful as the rest of him.

"This is unreal, Stevie."

Steve gives a little nod. He remembers his first pride parade; not the first one he was in, but the first one he _saw_. He had seen it on the television, all those people, just a few months after being defrosted. He couldn't _believe_ it. All of those people, celebrating who they were, in _public_.

Steve had put a hole through the television with his fist, and hadn't been able to explain when Stark had asked him what the fuck he thought he was doing.

It was the anger; the pure, unbridled rage of _missing_ _out_. Remembering being scared to walk too close to Bucky in the street in case someone accused them of sodomy and had them sent down; not being able to share it with Bucky, all those people, kissing who they wanted to kiss, being who they wanted to be. He was alone and lovesick and he had never, _ever_ wanted to share anything with Bucky more. Save, maybe, for his life.

The full force of it hits Steve square in the chest just then, and he has to duck his head, hide a few tears whilst Bucky is otherwise occupied.

They watch the parade as it passes by them almost idly, until Steve hears a familiar voice shouting "Captain Rogers!" from somewhere to his left. He looks in that direction - as does Bucky - and Bucky hums. "Isn't that the girl that painted your face?"

"Cap!" Leila calls, sitting in the back of a convertible as it rolls slowly by them. "Long time no see! Get up here!" She quickly looks at Bucky, and then grins. " _Both_ of you."

Steve looks at Bucky. Bucky shrugs. Steve tugs him out of the throng of bystanders and onto the road, and with a combination of a very slow car and supersoldier reflexes, they manage to get onto the back of it, sitting by Leila, with only a minor struggle.

"You look good. Got a beard." Leila grins.

Steve hates himself for the way he blushes, if only because Bucky's going to bring it up later. He also reminds himself that he can't tell the twenty-one year old civilian that he grew the beard because he was trying to evade the government, so he just raises one hand to scratch at it absently. "Trying something new." He answers.

"Suits you." She nods, looking around him to look at Bucky. "And you're Sergeant Barnes, right?"

Bucky seems genuinely thrown for a second. What had he expected? _Hey, you're the Winter Soldier, right? Y'know, that internationally wanted mass murderer? Trained assassin? HYDRA slave? That guy?_

Steve grins a little at his hesitation, before Bucky nods. "Yeah - yes. Uh. Bucky. Just Bucky is fine."

"I'm so glad you two are _actually_ gay," Leila sighs, settling back into place. " _No one_ at school believed me, but I always knew it. That newsreel footage of you two? _So. Gay_."

"Oh, good, just what we wanted." Bucky snarks, promptly shutting up when Steve jabs him in the ribs with his elbow.

"How'd you end up _in_  the parade, anyway?" Steve asks, looking to Leila.

"Oh, I've been in it three years in a row, now." She beams. "NYU LGBTQ Club - I'm president this year."

"Wow," Steve says. Genuinely, he's impressed. When he'd met her, a good five years or so ago, she'd been a high school student with a big mouth and apparently no qualms about telling Captain America, recent de-frostee, what to do. "Congratulations."

"Thank you." She says, and she grins. "I'm really glad you could come this year, though. We all love seeing you here. Means a lot." She glances at Bucky, and grins. "Means even more, now."

Steve looks at Bucky as he gives a tentative wave to a crowd they pass. They all cheer, and it makes Bucky blush, his cheeks turning pink. He turns to look at Steve when he feels Steve's eyes on him, and Steve doesn't miss his opportunity; he pulls him close, thumb and forefinger on Bucky's chin to reel him in so that he can kiss him. If the people around them cheer a little louder, Steve doesn't notice. He's too busy thinking about Bucky.

"That's gonna go viral." Bucky grins.

"You don't even know what viral means." It's meant to be an insult, but Steve can't keep the smile out of his voice long enough for it to sound even close.

"Stop ruinin' the mood, Rogers." Bucky sighs, his voice sounding about as exasperated as Steve's did, before he pulls him in for another kiss.

~*~

Steve wakes up with Bucky's sleepy dead weight on his chest, and the memories of the day before in the back of his mind, and he smiles softly. The photo _does_ go viral. Neither Steve nor Bucky get in trouble.

All in all, it turned out to be a pretty good day.

Steve makes the photo of them kissing in the back of a bright pink cadillac his screensaver, and he knows fine well that Bucky does the same.

"Maybe next year we can get our own float," Bucky calls from the bathroom. "Make it something about gay nonagenarians. Gay amnesia patients. Gay fugitives."

"A mix of all three," Steve suggests, stepping into the bathroom behind Bucky.

"So long as it's gay." Bucky agrees, reaching for Steve, pulling him into the shower as the water begins to steam.

"Super gay." Steve nods, making no promises as he brings his mouth to Bucky's.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Reminder that questions, prompts and comments are more than welcome below or [my tumblr](http://liionne.tumblr.com/ask).


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